Page 23 of Could It Be Magic?
Nick moved towards her and Thea was enveloped in a hug. Nick, after a day hefting stuff in from the barns single handed, smelled warm, musky and delicious. The traces of sweat and deodorant assailed her senses, and she breathed in, relishing their closeness. ‘Tally was a stupid mistake, and that’s all there is to it. I’d hate for you to think otherwise. And I really do want to clear the air,’ he said softly, his breath brushing her hair.
‘Me too.’ Thea rested in his arms, enjoying how good it felt to be held again, and by Nick. She glanced up at him, and as their eyes met, and their lips hovered a breath or two apart, her head started to spin. But just before she could close the gap between them, reality reasserted itself. ‘You’re a good friend,’ she said, half-sadly, pulling back.
‘You too.’ He let her go. ‘I’ll, er, see you tomorrow?’
‘Bright and early!’ she replied. As she walked out of the door towards her car, Thea’s heart was hammering faster and faster. It would have been so easy to tilt her face upwards and kiss him while they were hugging, but she wasn’t sure how things might have ended, if she had. She was shocked by just how much she’d wanted to do that.
21
After a much easier Friday in the farm shop, with Nick thanking his lucky stars he and Thea had sorted things out the night before, Saturday morning arrived with a festive flurry of snow. He’d been constantly replaying the hug that he and Thea had shared, resulting in some highly erotic dreams that had left him feeling as frustrated as the teenager he’d once been.
As Nick pulled up in the car park of the shop, he was glad of the Land Rover that was his choice for getting around. It had almost two hundred thousand miles on the clock, and his father joked that it was held together by rust and hope these days, but Nick wasn’t the vain, flashy type when it came to cars: the Landy suited him just fine.
He had a busy day ahead: he was still basically running the place on his own, but at least Roseanna would be in at 9 a.m. to manage the counter and keep the shop ticking over while he carried out the deliveries. Next weekend, the last one before they closed for Christmas, he’d be rushed off his feet with them. Today was somewhat less busy but he did have a rather special errand to run, and he wanted to allow enough time to do that.
He made sure the shop was ready for business, and then occupied himself with assembling the orders, ready to pack into the little dark blue van that bore the shop’s logo. By that time, Roseanna had arrived and was calmly checking and rotating stock and writing down things to re-order in the little notebook that was placed by the till for that purpose. Annabelle used the notebook when she put in orders from their many local suppliers early on Monday morning each week.
Nick was grateful for Roseanna’s calm, efficient presence. She was a reliable eighteen-year-old student at the nearby secondary school, and she’d been working at the farm shop on a Saturday since she turned sixteen. These days, Nick always felt more than happy to leave her in charge when he went out and did the deliveries on a Saturday morning. ‘I’ll be off now then,’ he said. ‘I might be a little bit longer than usual because of my final delivery, but you’ve got Mum and Dad’s number and my mobile if you need anything. Call us if there’s a problem.’
‘It’s all good,’ Roseanna replied. ‘You’d better get going or you’ll be late.’
‘See you in a bit,’ he said, walking out towards the van.
A short time later, Nick had done the local rounds, including dropping off a large consignment of a locally produced luxury brand of raw cat food to the Purrfect Paws cattery and rescue centre. Although the unfortunate strays and rescues who hadn’t found their forever homes would spend Christmas in the centre, Mollie and her dedicated staff were keen to give them a small festive treat ready for the big day.
After an hour or so, Nick had reached the last of his errands for the morning. The advantage of living in such a small hamlet as Lower Brambleton was that the deliveries weren’t too much to handle and he enjoyed catching up with the locals who liked to source their provisions from the nearby area, and those who had come to depend on the Saints’ Farm delivery service as a vital lifeline.
This last stop was no exception. Right at the top of one of the hills that bookended the hamlet was the Restful Oaks retirement home. With panoramic views across the beautiful county of Somerset, this was a very desirable place to spend your twilight years, and its residents were very well taken care of by its team of staff. They, too, liked a regular delivery of local produce and Nick always enjoyed a chat and, if time allowed, a cuppa and a biscuit with the residents in the lounge that overlooked the village.
Today though, his errand was slightly different. He pondered, as he got this very special delivery out of the van, why he was more than happy to don a Father Christmas outfit for this occasion, when he’d point-blank refused to put one on for Tally and her cameras. But tradition was one thing and making an idiot of himself in front of the nation was quite another, he conceded. As he made his way into the large, white, mock-Georgian style building, he observed that there were more cars than usual parked in the car park, even for a weekend. The festive season made people want to reach out and connect with their loved ones. He hoped that these meetings would cheer the residents of Restful Oaks and rally them for the season.
‘Morning, Nick!’ The cheerful voice of the receptionist, Amelia, rang out as he crossed the threshold with the first of a number of boxes. ‘Let me call Geoff and get him to give you a hand with those.’
‘Thanks.’ Nick smiled at Amelia and made the familiar way through to the kitchen, which was at the back of the building. Placing the first of the boxes down, on his way back out he met with the home’s weekend manager, Selina, and confirmed a couple of details.
‘Yes, they’re all present and correct in the dining room,’ Selina confirmed. ‘The local Guides and Brownies have come over this morning, too, to sing carols and provide a bit more Christmas cheer, so I hope you’ve remembered some extra mince pies and goodies!’
‘Annabelle put a note on the order to throw in a few more boxes.’ Nick smiled. ‘Wouldn’t want our carol singers to run out of steam, would we?’ He paused before adding, ‘Is there somewhere I can go to put this on?’
Selina smiled. ‘Absolutely. Although, if you don’t mind me saying, you’re a little too young for the costume. Your father’s back still giving him gyp?’
Nick nodded. ‘Sadly, yes, or he’d be up here with me. Not that I mind doing it,’ he added quickly, ‘but Dad does enjoy coming here and being sociable.’
‘Tell him he’s welcome any time in the new year, when he’s up to it,’ Selina said. ‘I know a lot of the residents really appreciate the conversation.’
‘Will do,’ Nick replied. He hurried into the staff room and quickly got changed. Then, once he was sure the daft beard and red costume were completely in place, he took a deep breath and made his way into the large dining area where the residents and their guests, as well as the Brownies and Guides were assembled.
‘Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas, one and all!’ he boomed in his best imitation of Santa Claus. While the residents looked indulgently delighted, the assembled girls of different ages looked excited and by turns too-cool-for-school indifferent. There was a smattering of parents who’d stuck around to hear the carol singing, and as Nick looked around the room, his heart started to race. There, sitting alongside a couple of the residents and smiling broadly, not trying to disguise her amusement at all at the sight of Nick in the rather-too-large Santa suit, was Thea.
Well, if that wasn’t the icing on the Christmas cake, Nick thought in mortification as he felt his face growing as red as the suit he was wearing. He tried to put it down to the tropical temperature of the home’s central heating, but he couldn’t convince himself for long, especially when Thea gave him a highly amused wink.
Hurrying around the dining area, he handed out a beautifully baked mince pie to each resident, and then, under the watchful eye of the Brownie and Guide leaders, the younger guests helped themselves to the rest, which had been unboxed and brought in by Selina and her staff.
‘Cup of tea, Santa?’ Selina asked, with a twinkle in her eye.
‘A glass of water would be even better!’ Nick replied. The synthetic fluff of the beard was making his face itch, and he couldn’t wait to strip it back off again. And Thea’s amused glances weren’t helping the situation. She hadn’t mentioned she was going to be here, and he was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable, hot and embarrassed.
‘Coming right up.’ Selina bustled off to the kitchen.
